<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Shoring up by BlushLouise</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918317">Shoring up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushLouise/pseuds/BlushLouise'>BlushLouise</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depression, Depression Recovery, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, being next-of-kin is hard, happy ending in sight eventually, these are Optimus Prime's emotional support Autobots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:08:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushLouise/pseuds/BlushLouise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus is struggling. It's up to Ratchet, Prowl and the other Autobots to figure out how to help him move forward. But depression isn't an easy thing to live with, and even harder to snap out of.</p>
<p>Sometimes staging a mutiny to end the war is simply something you have to do for your leader.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Prowl/Ratchet (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shoring up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>To shore up: 1. To support or help keep something from falling by placing something under or against it. 2. To help or support.</p>
<p>A while back, I read something in a fic about Optimus taking on the blame for every bad thing that ever happened. It stuck with me, and this thing has been a work in progress in the years since.<br/>This is a fic about serious depression, seen from the point of view of friends and family of the depressed person. It's written based on my own experiences, so it's not in any way professionally researched or similar. The things Prime's people do to help out might help some, but not others.<br/>This does go rather dark at times. The condition in question is serious, serious enough that writing this from Prime's POV would have been very difficult if not hurtful for me. Take care of yourself while reading. There's no shame in skipping this one if you for any reason don't feel like reading it. That said, it doesn't end badly.<br/>Regarding the TW: suicidal thoughts, this is mainly a mention a couple of times and not described closely. It's a very real fear the Autobots have, but we never see Prime's thoughts on the subject.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The war doesn’t end with a bang. Not an explosion, not a rifle shot, not a crash. It doesn’t end with grand speeches and posturing and endless, hard discussions over a negotiation table.</p>
<p>It ends with a sigh.</p>
<p>“Tell me why you’re proposing easier terms now, when you’ve been adamant to protect the humans and stay on Earth before.” Megatron’s face is stern and disbelieving on the screen.</p>
<p>“Because circumstances have changed,” Prowl replies. “Leave it at that, Megatron. Be happy that we’ve managed to agree on a peace treaty that doesn’t disfavor either faction.”</p>
<p>“These are the circumstances you’re conveniently mute about.” Megatron’s optics narrow.</p>
<p>“Yes. Frankly, you don’t need to know.”</p>
<p>Prowl watches as Megatron makes up his mind. He hopes against hope that the warlord won’t keep digging. After all, Prowl can’t really admit that if the war goes on, there is a very large risk that they will have to watch Optimus Prime waste away.</p>
<p>“Very well. Agreed.” Megatron nods decisively. “We shall meet at the appointed time to discuss the practicalities.”</p>
<p>“We will see you then. Prowl out.”</p>
<p>Cutting the transmission is a relief. Prowl relaxes his tense doorwings, letting them drop into the dejected pose he’s been fighting throughout the call. He turns towards his audience. “Do you think it’ll be enough?”</p>
<p>“I hope so.” Ratchet looks grim, though. “We’ll have to wait and see.”</p>
<p>Hope, Prowl reminds himself. They have to keep it alive. Especially now that Prime seems to have lost his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Before</em>
</p>
<p>Ratchet is the first to notice. In retrospect, he should have noticed earlier. They all should have. But they haven’t, and now Ratchet is faced with the physical evidence.</p>
<p>He gazes down at the screen, optics narrowed. “How come your systems are this stressed, Optimus? We haven’t been in battle for weeks! Everything’s quiet.”</p>
<p>Optimus shrugs. He isn’t meeting Ratchet’s optics, instead focusing somewhere between Ratchet’s shoulders and the floor. “I don’t know, Ratchet.”</p>
<p>Ratchet turns to another reading. No battles had meant time to catch up on basic maintenance instead of just damage repair, and though he’d tried to get Optimus in sooner the Prime had insisted on him handling everyone else first. Which had led to Ratchet finally getting to Optimus late in the afternoon, when most mecha were off-shift and relaxing. Optimus had still been working, though, trying to get out of the appointment until Ratchet had threatened to drag him to the medbay by a finial.</p>
<p>“How are you recharging?”</p>
<p>“On and off.” Optimus’ voice is low, almost inflectionless. “About the same as usual.”</p>
<p>“How many hours a night?” Ratchet keeps his tone all business, but he doesn’t like what he’s hearing.</p>
<p>“Five or six, I guess? Five more than six.”</p>
<p>“How long has that been going on?” Five or six hours isn’t ideal, far from it, but it’s not detrimental to get too little recharge now and then. A few nights of poor sleep might explain Optimus’ stressed systems, though.</p>
<p>“Since… I don’t know? At least for the last year.”</p>
<p>“For the last year?” Ratchet stares. “You’ve recharged less than six hours a night every night for the last year?”</p>
<p>“I think so?” Optimus still doesn’t look up. “I haven’t kept accurate count.”</p>
<p>Ratchet drags a hand across his face. “Please tell me that those hours are at least continuous.”</p>
<p>Optimus looks away, which is answer enough.</p>
<p>Ratchet sighs. “Optimus.”</p>
<p>“It’s not like I decided to not recharge enough.” Optimus’ voice is still strangely distant. “I just… Something needs me in the evening, so I do whatever it is, and then I try to get through my reports pile before berth. But I can’t focus, so I end up re-reading them over and over to try to get the information in. And then it’s past midnight, and I do recharge, I just wake up very early. So I read some more reports, since I can’t seem to power down again.” He shrugs minutely. “When I wake up, I’m awake. Even when it’s early. I thought I should be recharging more at first, but then I never did, so I figured this was a new normal for me.”</p>
<p>“It’s a bad normal,” Ratchet says bluntly. “When was the last time you relaxed? Actually, properly relaxed?”</p>
<p>Optimus doesn’t reply. He’s looking away, not focusing on anything, his little fingers tapping against his thumbs in a strange little tic. He doesn’t even seem to be aware he’s doing it.</p>
<p>Ratchet sighs. This is not what he had expected to find today – and really, what does that say about his skills as a medic? That he hasn’t even noticed his own immediate superior, his friend, flagging like this? “You need to relax, Optimus. When was the last time you did something for yourself?”</p>
<p>That small shrug again. It’s like every one of Optimus’ reactions are tempered, muted, as if just expressing himself normally is hard for him. “I don’t have that luxury, Ratchet.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense.” Ratchet waves a hand, like he’s trying to banish the notion. “Everyone has time to do things for themselves. Even if it’s just reading a novel or talking to a friend or eating energon goodies. What do you do in your off-time?”</p>
<p>“I read reports.” Optimus looks to be intensely focused on his own pedes, watching them twitch. He’s not still, even though he’s sitting quietly enough. Fingers moving, feet moving, no optic contact, no inflection… Ratchet doesn’t like what he’s seeing. “Sometimes there are meetings. A lot of the time, Prowl or Jazz need me to sign off on something.”</p>
<p>Ratchet shoots him a glance that is as pointed as he can make it. “That’s not off-time, that’s work.”</p>
<p>Optimus shrugs. “It needs to be done.”</p>
<p>Not for the first time, Ratchet bemoans the fact that they have no psychiatrists. Rung is who-knows-where. Froid is gone. Smokescreen is half-trained at best, and not particularly motivated. No one is available who can be what the Prime needs right now.</p>
<p>Well, no one but Ratchet. So he’ll have to do what he can.</p>
<p>“Tell me what the highlight of your day is?”</p>
<p>Optimus frowns, the motion as minute and disconnected as everything else he’s doing. “Highlight?”</p>
<p>“Yes. The part you look forward to. The part you enjoy the most.”</p>
<p>Optimus is silent for a disturbingly long time.</p>
<p>“I suppose… The wash racks. Maybe.”</p>
<p>Ratchet tries to not react too much to that. It isn’t easy. “The wash racks? How so?”</p>
<p>Optimus shrugs helplessly. “I can lock the door behind me. And disable my comms. And just hide for a while.” The words come faster and faster, tumbling out of him, almost like he’s losing control over them now that he’s letting himself speak. “No one can get to me in there. No one but you, anyway, and you only use your override for emergencies. So it’s safe in there.”</p>
<p>Safe.</p>
<p>Well, that’s telling.</p>
<p>Ratchet suppresses a sigh. This is going to take time. Time they might not have.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where’s Optimus?” Ironhide glances at the empty seat at the head of the table.</p>
<p>“He won’t be here for this.” Ratchet’s face is grim, and Prowl feels the small stirrings of worry he always gets when his mate wears that expression. “I’ll explain why once everyone’s here.”</p>
<p>The last straggler turns out to be Jazz, not unexpectedly, sauntering in like he has all the time in the world, taking a seat like he doesn’t even notice Ratchet’s serious mood. Maybe he doesn’t, though Prowl suspects that Jazz notices more than he lets on. As usual.</p>
<p>Jazz proves it when he opens his mouth. “So, we here t’ discuss why boss bot’s all doom and gloom all of a sudden?”</p>
<p>“Optimus?” Ironhide frowns. “What’s wrong with Optimus?”</p>
<p>Ratchet sighs, locking the door remotely so not even Prime can get in. “This stays in this room,” he begins slowly. “It’s extremely sensitive information, and if news of this spreads among the troops – or even worse, spreads to the Decepticons – we’re in some serious slag.”</p>
<p>Prowl looks around. Ratchet’s serious attitude seems to be infecting the others.</p>
<p>“I managed to corral Optimus for a check-up earlier.” Ratchet taps the datapad in front of him. “Physically, he’s well enough. His frame is showing a lot more stress than I’d like to see in any mechanism, but I can’t fix that. And any damage sustained from external sources has long since healed.”</p>
<p>“External sources,” Jazz repeats, once again grasping the core of the issue.</p>
<p>“Exactly.”</p>
<p>Prowl can feel the chaos in Ratchet’s spark. He breaks protocol and reaches out, resting a hand on his mate’s back in a show of support.</p>
<p>“I’ll be blunt,” Ratchet continues, leaning into the touch slightly. “Optimus is severely depressed. And I’m talking serious clinical depression, not the watered-down version that Gears complains about.” He rubs his face with one hand, showing how tired he is. “If this was back on Cybertron, if this was any other mech, I’d put him on mandated medical leave for at least six months and make him see a therapist. Maybe then we’d see some improvement.”</p>
<p>“But we’re not on Cybertron,” Prowl murmurs.</p>
<p>“And he ain’t any other mech,” Jazz agrees. “Plus, we don’t have any therapists t’ speak of.” He’s all focus now, in full planning mode, and Prowl can’t fully express how comforting it is to see that. Having Jazz on the case always, always helps. “So what do we do, Ratch?”</p>
<p>“If I knew, I would have done it already. As it is, he’s on reduced duty. Which means that the two of you will have to pick up the slack.” His gaze is sharp as it travels from Prowl to Jazz.</p>
<p>“It’s doable, certainly.” Prowl can see it. “We should be able to cut his duties in half if we enlist someone like Streetwise or Skydive to help out with the paperwork.”</p>
<p>“It’ll have to be doable.” Ratchet sighs again. “Because if we can’t help him turn this around, he’ll just get worse. If that happens… If that happens, I worry that we’ll go to see him one day to find him expired. He’s pushing himself through the days as it is, forcing himself to keep going because if he stops he doesn’t know how to get started again.”</p>
<p>“We won’t let it get to that.” Ironhide sounds shocked and determined, which is also comforting. “We’ll fix him.”</p>
<p>Ratchet shakes his head, and Prowl privately agrees. This isn’t something they can fix. Optimus has to do that himself.</p>
<p>But they can help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a slow change, if any. Reducing Optimus’ workload seems doable at first, but there’s just so much of it. Even with Skydive, Streetwise and Mirage to help, there’s barely any change. And Optimus doesn’t relax. He doesn’t hover, not exactly, but he looks over the datapads that they haven’t gotten around to yet, he checks and double-checks everything they file, he’s making contingency plans to a level that even Prowl thinks is unnecessary. He doesn’t let anything go. And he treats every task like it’s been given to him personally, and like giving it up means he’s failed. Which actually makes him worse. Ratchet has to mandate that no one ask Optimus to do anything even remotely related to work, because he doesn’t seem to know that he doesn’t have to say yes every time.</p>
<p>Ratchet doesn’t know how to handle this. He never trained in mental health, he doesn’t have the right certification. All he can be is a friend, but even friendly socialization seems to be beyond Optimus’ capabilities at the moment. Every invitation is met with a shrug and a “Maybe later”, and the Prime avoids any sign of a crowd or even a small group of mecha.</p>
<p>“It’s not that he doesn’t want to let go,” Prowl sighs one evening, snuggled up to his mate. “It’s almost like he’s unable to. Like he doesn’t believe he’s allowed to do so.”</p>
<p>“He probably doesn’t.” Ratchet doesn’t know how to explain it any more than Prowl does. “He’s been going for so long that now, he doesn’t know how to stop.”</p>
<p>“Stopping isn’t a possibility he can even see.” Prowl nods, doorwings drooping on his back. “Primus, Ratchet, how did we fail him so badly?”</p>
<p>Ratchet pulls him closer. “We’re all of us so busy with our own traumas, our own issues.” He snorted. “Plus, in our defense – not that we deserve too much of it for letting him get this bad – he’s been hiding it well. He’s kept going on sheer willpower well past the time he should have stopped, and now if he stops, he’ll crash.”</p>
<p>“So what do we do?” Prowl’s blue optics are on him, looking at Ratchet like he holds all the answers in the universe. Quite often Ratchet adores that look. It’s an honor, having so much trust from this mech. But sometimes, he doesn’t know where to go next. Sometimes, he can’t be the rock.</p>
<p>So it’s good they have each other, really.</p>
<p>That’s part of the problem too, Ratchet reflects. Optimus seems to think he needs to be everyone’s rock, the one everyone leans on. The responsible one, the one with a plan, the one who’s supposed to solve everyone’s problems. That’s a heavy burden, much too heavy for any one mech to bear. No wonder Optimus is going to his knees under it.</p>
<p>Ratchet snuggles up to Prowl, their helms resting against each other. “I don’t know,” he admits. “We try our best. We’re there for him. I think that might be the best we can do, really.”</p>
<p>Prowl probably isn’t happy with that. There are too many variables he can’t account for, too vague a plan. But he’ll try. That’s all they can do, right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Prowl isn’t happy with Ratchet’s plan. Not because of the plan itself – no one has given him anything better, after all. But making plans to help Optimus heal is very different from making plans to defeat the Decepticons. The latter calls for a battle strategy, with contingencies, variables many but known. Prowl is comfortable with that. Battle strategies, he can handle.</p>
<p>This, though? This demands going in blind and hoping for the best. Fingers crossed, as Jazz would say, which says everything really. It’s definitely more a Jazz strategy than a Prowl strategy, but Prowl has to work with what he’s handed, even when there’s very little of it.</p>
<p>So he takes two cubes of energon and goes to see Optimus.</p>
<p>“I haven’t finished reading your report from the last battle yet,” is the first thing Optimus says. Everything about him is apologetic. Where has his self-esteem gone? Where is the mech who went toe to toe with Megatron and didn’t let the wounds slow him down? “I’m sorry. I’ll get to it as soon as I can, probably by the end of the week.”</p>
<p>“There’s no rush,” Prowl says cautiously. “You were there, after all. You saw how it happened.”</p>
<p>“Still.” Optimus at least sits down, though he’s not relaxed by any definition of the word. “You go to all that trouble writing those reports, the least I can do is read them. I’m sorry, my friend.”</p>
<p>“Nothing to apologize for.” The old Optimus would have known that. “Will you refuel with me?”</p>
<p>“I’d like to. If I’m not keeping you from anything.” The Prime’s smile is tired and wan. “Have a seat. How are you?”</p>
<p>“No complaints.” Prowl isn’t good at small talk, he never has been. He’d much rather get straight to the point. But he has a feeling that simply asking Optimus what has him so depressed and how they can fix it won’t really work. He should probably find another way. “How are you, Optimus? I can see you’re still drowning in datapads.”</p>
<p>Or apparently he’s trying the direct approach.</p>
<p>Optimus snorts, a small laugh but it’s there. “I don’t think I’ll ever run out of datapads, my friend. The war waits for no mech, and I must stay on top of it if I’m to keep everyone safe and stop Megatron from destroying everything he touches.”</p>
<p>I, he says. Like he’s the only one responsible for winning the war, the only one responsible for where they are right now. The amount of guilt Optimus has imposed upon himself is enough to flatten an average mountain.</p>
<p>Prowl can hardly stand it.</p>
<p>“For tonight,” he suggests, “maybe we should focus on something other than the war. I see quite enough of that during duty hours.” He tries for a smile, which Optimus echoes. “Ratchet has taught me to let duty be when I’m not supposed to be on shift. So I brought a vidfile I rather enjoy, and thought you would too. Would you like to watch it with me?”</p>
<p>“I would, I think.” Optimus nodded at his small entertainment system. “Put it on for us?”</p>
<p>Prowl does.</p>
<p>He’s not too surprised when Optimus drops into recharge a third of the way through the film, empty energon cube dropping from his hand. He even stays in recharge as Prowl calls for Ironhide to help move the Prime to his berth.</p>
<p>“He needs all the sleep he can get,” Ironhide rumbles quietly. “Can you disable his alarm?”</p>
<p>Prowl probably can. But he has a feeling Optimus would feel even more guilty if he were to wake up late and be behind on his work.</p>
<p>He does change the time it’s set for, though. There’s no need for the Prime to get up at six in the morning. He also pages Sideswipe, and tasks him with bringing Optimus fuel in his room before starting his own shift.</p>
<p>Small things. They would start with small things.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ratchet keeps a close watch on Optimus Prime. Closer, probably, than is healthy for either of them. He just can’t get rid of the feeling that if he looks away, if he takes his focus off Optimus for even a few moments, the Prime will crash and burn. Which is probably unfair, but still. Ratchet is a medic. This is something he can’t heal, and it worries him.</p>
<p>It does seem, though, like the things they’re doing are helping. Not much, but enough to make a change. Optimus isn’t getting any worse. Unfortunately, he’s not getting any better either. He still avoids the rec room, doesn’t seek out company if he can avoid it. Both Prowl and Ironhide have taken to looking in on him as often as possible, which does at least serve to keep Optimus fueled to capacity. And allows him some decent recharge, whenever he falls asleep mid-visit.</p>
<p>But he’s not getting better. And Ratchet doesn’t know what to do next.</p>
<p>It’s Jazz, of course, who comes up with the crazy idea.</p>
<p>“We’ll just end it,” he shrugs, at the end of yet another meeting where Ratchet has bemoaned the lack of competent mental health specialists and Ironhide has grumbled at everything simply because he’s so worried. “I’m serious, mechs. If th’ war is what stresses OP out t’ the point where he can’t function, we end the war.”</p>
<p>They all stare at him.</p>
<p>Jazz isn’t unnerved. Nothing much ever unnerves him. “C’mon. We all know that’s what needs to be done. Ain’t like we’re makin’ much progress here anyway.”</p>
<p>Ironhide scoffs. “I think havin’ to make a peace treaty proposal ain’t exactly the thing ta relax Optimus, Jazz.”</p>
<p>“So we don’t involve him.” Jazz’s gaze is sharp as it travels between the rest of them. “We know what to do. Optimus doesn’t have to know about it until it’s done.”</p>
<p>It doesn’t ring quite right in Ratchet’s mind. But it is possibly the best suggestion yet. “Killing the Decepticons won’t help Optimus any,” he feels the need to protest. “He’ll never forgive us for that.”</p>
<p>“So we negotiate,” Prowl says, and there’s a smile on his face as he finally sees a way forward he can work with. “We set up a proposal that Megatron can’t afford to disregard.”</p>
<p>“And that Optimus can get behind,” Ratchet supplies, because that’s important.</p>
<p>“He never wanted to end the war with bloodshed anyway,” Wheeljack murmurs. “He’ll appreciate this. Eventually.”</p>
<p>“Megatron’s more likely t’ accept a proposal that doesn’t come from Prime.” Jazz shrugs at the looks the others give him. “Well, it’s true. They’re both of ‘em more likely t’ argue about details than t’ get any real negotiation done if they’re sat down together. Better we handle it. Ideally we’d handle it with Starscream and Soundwave, but I’ll take what I can get at this point.”</p>
<p>“Screamer’s insane,” Ironhide protests darkly.</p>
<p>Jazz inclines his head at that. “True. But he doesn’t hold a grudge the way Megsy does. And he genuinely does want what’s best for th’ Decepticons, instead of just world domination.” He glances at Prowl. “Frame th’ proposal in a way that’ll be full of sense, so Soundwave and Starscream can both approve of it, and make it so Megatron can’t shoot it down without looking like an idiot. We can do this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And so, the war ends.</p>
<p>It’s not immediate. It takes lengthy negotiation, both with the Decepticons and with Optimus. When the Prime learns they effectively mutinied against him to make a deal with the Decepticons, his mood dips to an all-time low. It’s obvious to Prowl how Optimus blames himself for not even being able to do this for them. How he considers himself a blatant failure at everything he tries to do.</p>
<p>For a while, he can see how Optimus struggles to even find a reason to go on existing. Ratchet practically lives in his quarters for a few weeks, to keep an eye on him, talk him through the dark spots and make sure he doesn’t do anything drastic.</p>
<p>But thankfully, the darkest days pass.</p>
<p>It’s not a quick process. It turns out, this kind of thing doesn’t heal overnight. Ratchet compares it to Optimus having gotten a spark injury, one that he can learn to manage, but it will still be prone to flaring up. And it is a long-term process. They may have gotten past the immediate crisis, but Optimus isn’t healed. He’s healing, slowly, but he’s not healed.</p>
<p>Prowl is willing to settle for healing. Even if it takes years, which Ratchet assures him it probably will. If Optimus ever gets completely past it. He might not. And they need to be prepared for that.</p>
<p>Prowl can do that. He can plan around Optimus’ needs, incorporate them in his strategies. Just like he does Megatron’s demands and Starscream’s drama, the twins’ aggression and Red Alert’s paranoid tendencies. He can work with what he knows. It helps that they’re not at war anymore.</p>
<p>It also helps that Optimus seems to be coming back to himself. It’s slow, yes, barely perceptible sometimes. But something’s changed. If Prowl had to put a name on it, he’d say the Prime seems lighter somehow. Like there’s less weighing on him, now that there are fewer immediate crises to handle. Eventually, he thinks, they’ll have their old Prime back. Optimus, happy, laughing, the way he used to be. Interacting with the rest of them voluntarily again, having fun with it.</p>
<p>They’ll get there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tell me what the highlight of your day is now,” Ratchet says, offering Optimus a small smile. He’s happier with the Prime’s results now – his frame’s still stressed, much more than it should be, but he’s better than he was.</p>
<p>“It varies,” Optimus says. His hands are calm, resting on his thighs, no little tics there anymore. “Yesterday, it was my evening fuel. I don’t know what Sideswipe had added to the energon, but it was delicious.” He smiles, and there’s an ember of genuine joy in it that makes Ratchet’s spark ache, but in a good way. “He won’t share the recipe, he says, but he’s bringing me another cube like it tonight. I’m looking forward to that.”</p>
<p>“Good. I’m glad,” is all Ratchet manages to say, because Optimus looking forward to things again, actively finding moments and parts of his day to be happy about is such a massive stride forward that he almost doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s a good, good thing.</p>
<p>He’s especially happy when Optimus continues unprompted. “Last week, I even listened to music again. Blaster came by to see me with some melodies I haven’t heard since before the war. Apparently, he’s been ‘trading tunes’ with Soundwave.” He chuckles, and Ratchet feels light enough to float away from pure relief. “It eases my spark to see them getting along again. To see the peace we’re building. Makes me think…”</p>
<p>He looks away, fidgets, but Ratchet feels comfortable enough in his mood now to prod a little. “Think what? That we should all be very nervous of the day our twins team up with the Stunticons? Or worse, Soundwave’s little hellions?”</p>
<p>Optimus laughs out loud, and for a moment all the care and wear the last few years on Earth have put on his face fade away. “I think we’ll have to brace for that, yes. But no. It makes me think that maybe… Maybe it was worth it.” His optics go soft, an almost ashamed cast to his features. “Me being like this, I mean. Maybe it had a point.”</p>
<p>“No.” Ratchet can’t hide the revulsion that thought makes him feel. He doesn’t even try. “Peace doesn’t require your sacrifice, Optimus. It doesn’t need you to give yourself up, work yourself to the bone. What it needs is trust and communication.” He puts a hand on the Prime’s shoulder, relishing in the warmth of the healthy plating. “That’s all we need to manage this, I think. Peace is the work of many, not just of one.”</p>
<p>Optimus chuckles again, making Ratchet grin. “When did you get so wise, old friend?”</p>
<p>Ratchet shrugs. “I might have absorbed a nugget or two from this leader I know. He’s got his good sides. Now come on.” He shifts his touch to a hold and tugs Prime off the exam table. “The Dinobots are playing the Stunticons out on the court, and I promised to come cheer them on. Or patch them up, whichever becomes necessary.” He’s not too worried. There may be some scrapes and bruises, but basketball has proven an excellent outlet for Motormaster’s team, and the Dinobots just plain think it’s fun. “You know Motormaster’ll try extra hard to prove himself if you’re there watching.”</p>
<p>So will Grimlock, for that matter, but there is no need to open that particular can of worms yet. Grimlock and Optimus can work that part out for themselves, when Grimlock feels ready and believes Optimus can handle it. It might take a while, but Grimlock is patient. Patient and calm enough about it that Ratchet’s sure it can only be a good thing for Optimus, when they get that far.</p>
<p>“Alright then,” Optimus says after a moment of hesitation. “Let’s go watch a game. Make sure they’re not starting the war up again.”</p>
<p>“Nah, don’t worry about that. Ironhide and Thundercracker are minding them.” Besides, the Stunticons will get more out of the Prime being a cheering audience than if he is there as a stern commander. “Let’s just sit down and relax for a while. We have time for that.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Optimus agrees, smiling softly again. “I guess we have time for that.”</p>
<p>Time. Yes, Ratchet will make sure Optimus has plenty of it.</p>
<p>“Ratchet.” Optimus’ voice is quiet. “Thank you. For everything.”</p>
<p>Ratchet doesn’t know what to say. He suspects his voice won’t come out right even if he does find the words. “It’s okay,” he manages, patting Optimus awkwardly on the arm. “It’s okay.”</p>
<p>At this point, he dares to think it will be.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>